Instantly came a stinging report, and the light went out—Hank was in reach of the switch, and Hank moved quickly in emergencies like these. V Mr. Slewer’s attack came unexpectedly and found the Duke unprepared. Once before Mr. Slewer had come to Kymott Crescent, but his arrival had been noted by the observant Hank, and there had been a raid upon a well furnished armoury. The Duke ran for the conservatory, but Hank’s arm caught him. "Not on your life," he murmured. "If that’s Bill he’s waitin’—get upstairs an’ find your gun. Mine’s hangin’ behind the door of my room." He heard the Duke mount the stairs with flying feet, and cautiously opened the conservatory door that led to the garden. "Hullo, you Bill," he said softly, but there came no answer. Disregarding the sage advice he had given to the Duke he stepped swiftly into the darkness. He sank down flat on the wet grass and peered left and right. There was no sign of any intruder, but he was too old a campaigner to trust overmuch to first appearances. There was a light step behind him, and he was joined by the Duke. "See anything," whispered the Duke and pushed a Colt into his hands. "Nothing," said Hank, "he’s gone." Noiselessly they wriggled the garden length. Hank made for the place where the ladder should have been, but his sweeping arm could not find it. Later it was discovered against the wall at the end of the garden. Kymott Crescent is an offshoot of Kymott Road. If you take the letter Y, the left fork to represent the Crescent, and the straight line and right fork to represent Kymott Road, you may realize the easier how the mysterious assassin escaped. For on the other side of the wall at the end of the Duke’s garden is a main thoroughfare, deserted at this hour of the night, and it was as simple a matter to gain access to the garden as it was to escape from it. They returned to Tuppy, a preternaturally solemn figure, sitting entrenched behind a divan which he had thoughtfully upended. "He’s gone," said the Duke cheerfully, but awoke no responsive gleam in Tuppy’s eye. "Oh, he’s gone, has he?" said Tuppy absently. "Yes, nipped over a ladder—I say, Tuppy, you’re not scared?" "Not a bit, oh dear no," replied Tuppy, without any great heartiness. "There wasn’t any danger, you know." "Of course not," said Tuppy airily, "quite so." He glanced apprehensively at the shattered glass of the door. "Better put up the shutters, old feller," he said with a careless wave of his hand, "there’s a beastly draught." There were, as it happened, two folding shutters, artfully concealed at the side of the door, which Hank closed. Tuppy sighed explosively.